Best Tell Tale Signs Poems
I stare at my mirror
So shocked by what I see
There is a strange woman
Staring right back at me
I must’ve been abducted
This must be a crazy trick
For the reflection that I see
Is making me quite sick
Are those horrid wrinkles?
Is that a double chin?
The neck that was my joy
Is pillar like- not thin!
My eyes have no sparkle
They look listless and glazed
It gets so hard to focus
When all I feel is dazed
Maybe it’s just a dream
From which I will awake
For how could that be me?
I’m sure it’s just a fake
I pinch myself real hard
The mirror woman screams
Oh no, it must be true
Now both of us cry streams
Mirror, you’re a traitor!!!
Mirror, this is a crime!!!
I order you to hide!!!
The tell-tale signs of time!!!
Do me a small favor
Tell me a little lie
Reflect a younger me…
Oh please, give it a try!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Inspiring, crescendo ... the ascension,
of myth and legend as Yaguara,
or "Death in one leap" the sleek frame, Jaguar
as if it's from another dimension.
Leopards bit spotty, but Jaguars take
a rosette form, tell-tale signs like water
that natures them. As a jungle squatter,
prey, and time of hunt, don't discriminate
their mettle. Domains--mine alone; moms play
dads too, tongues play teeth too, cubs play adult
as hunt molds age. Overcast shades result
in a Black Panther coexist display.
Imperil: human expansion collide,
... imagine our continental divide.
She pounded the last nail into the lid of the coffin
The coffin that held her dream
She sat there for a while
In the silence
Thinking of all it had meant
What it was meant to be
Her dream
She threw herself over the coffin
And wracked away with sobs
The last hopes that lay
Buried deep within her
Silence
No one had come to mourn
No one had said a word
Except when her dream was alive and well
Only then
Then…they told her
“Look at the tell-tale signs
Can’t you see?
Something is amiss
Your dream…Your dream is…sick
It won’t make it
It won’t survive.”
She hadn't believed them
Thought they had lied
Yet, here she was
She wiped her tears away
What did they know?
What did they care?
How could they understand…
That wrapped up there in her dream
Was her beating heart
She could not bear to bury it
So, she pushed it underneath the shade
Of a weeping willow tree
Weeping
Weeping
For who she couldn't be
And she walked away
Dreamless
Heartless
Dead….
Unburied!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
MM
Menopause Moment
It comes on uninvited
And it doesn't make you excited
Heart flutters ensue
To an almighty hue
Of crimson red
Lighting up your face and head
Next comes the tsunami of sweat
Accompanied by an almighty dread
Will anyone see the tell tale signs
Will they think l’ve been on the wine?
Doctors’ scratch their chins and ponder
While you garble questions and just wonder
Will your brain capsize?
Will you stay alive?
Beneath the bluster and blunder
Which is now your life
Thank God your no ones wife!
So, there is no womb prayer
Just you, pulling out your hair
No soft voice
In the middle of the night
Telling you it will be alright?
Copyright Sinead Looby.
She seemed restless
Their gilded cage of love
That she had begged him
To imprison her in
With the bars of his passion
Seemed to be confining now
She never said anything
But he knew…
She felt different to his touch
He saw those wistful glances
Past the bars to the outside
And his heart bled
So he unlocked the door
But left it shut
Watching if the latch
Would show tell-tale signs
If the door would give away
Any secret whisper
Of an attempt to escape
His love
Days passed and there
Was no sign
No whisper
And yet…
At nights
Long after he pretended
That their love making
Had satisfied his hunger
He lay there quietly
Still hungry
For all that she was not giving him
Her soul
He heard her sighs of discontent
Long after he thought sleep had claimed her
And in the dark of that night
He prayed for strength
To carry it through
Every night
For next few days
He left the door just a little more open
Than it was before
Wondering….
If she would notice
If she would break free
He was risking his life
He knew it…
But he would not keep her
Against her will
He was not that kind of man
And she would not ask to leave
She was not that kind of woman
On the third night
He saw her eyes fix
On the half open door
A curious mix of wonder
And perplexity
Played on her face
He quickly turned away
Bur he felt the question
Lingering in the air
The sheer longing in her eyes
Burning in his mind
That night
She was on fire
Her love a blaze of passion
She responded to his every touch
Electrified
Energized
Feeding off his desires
Giving
Asking
Pleading
Screaming
Satiating him
Beyond imagination
She pleased him
In every way he had ever
Imagined
Had desired
And it was all he could do
To wait until
He knew she was ready
To reach that place
Where intensity rules
And everything else
Is subjugated
They were now fused together
No beginning and no end
As wave after wave of
Of pulsating ecstasy
Engulfed them
He slept then
Satisfied
Content
His premonitions buried
In the world of dreams
Until a stray ray of light
Fell across his face
And he opened his eyes
To find himself…. Alone
Alone
She had flown
And left a single feather
To remind him
Of her angelic form
Continuation in Part II
I pricked my ears to follow the sound,
As did my son and our puppy hound,
delight of violin in full tune,
Played to setting sun and rising moon!
Winter evening was well underway,
Christmas carol singers in full sway,
Violin was playing the church psalms,
And Beethoven,Elgar, Berg and Brahms.
Mystery player hidden from view,
Three ardent followers, wish he knew,
Our quest to trace the source was in vain,
The flow of music was unrestrained!
A bright full moon but it was still dark,
couple in romance strolling the park,
sound of violin has come to stop,
If not for ducks one can hear pin drop.
In corner of park a wooden bench,
the maestro was here, was my hunch,
Some tell tale signs of food and foot prints,
Other than these there were no more hints!
We returned next week for an encore,
A Christmas cake with thank you decor,
There was no music but silence all the way.
Near the bench, a note:-
“ RIP, In heaven you shall play!”
Tic Toc
Tell tale signs
Dead angels counting time
The ballerina dancing inside
Her snow flake orb of light
Childhood dreams
Dancing in circles while screaming
Shatter me
Fragile notes upon the strings of life
Fragile hopes shattered on shores remote
Inside dead dreams does a childhood float
Take me to the mountain tops
Let me reach to the skies
My shattered dreams seeks the heavens
to escape this worldly globe where I dance
In desperation
Shattered dreams
Pretty silhouettes
Cracked pottery all around
Teapots in pieces
Hopes become only shattered dreams
So it seems
I stare at my mirror
So shocked by what I see
There is a strange woman
Staring right back at me
I must’ve been abducted
This must be a crazy trick
For the reflection that I see
Is making me quite sick
Are those horrid wrinkles?
Is that a double chin?
The neck that was my joy
Is pillar like- not thin!
My eyes have no sparkle
They look listless and glazed
It gets so hard to focus
When all I feel is dazed
Maybe it’s just a dream
From which I will awake
For how could that be me?
I’m sure it’s just a fake
I pinch myself real hard
The mirror woman screams
Oh no, it must be true
Now both of us cry streams
Mirror, you’re a traitor!!!
Mirror, this is a crime!!!
I order you to hide!!!
The tell-tale signs of time!!!
Do me a small favor
Tell me a little lie
Reflect a younger me…
Oh please, give it a try!
Eileen Manassian
Dear Soupers....Thought I'd share with you something exciting that's happening in my life at the moment. I'm on YouTube as the host of a program entitled, Rhymes of the Times. I share my love for poetry and my poems from Poetry Soup. I've started with my most viewed poems. I have four episodes up, and I thought I'd share the third one with you. Tomorrow, I will have The Paradox of Love up. Hope you enjoy these simple programs. The Channel name is Eileen Manassian. Hugs.
Chalk Full of Great Lines
The body has been removed
To my place of sanctified worship
Where all is quiet and piano soothing
I am Ernesto Cortazar
Your Coroner and host for the evening
Here is my creation and story
In the docket I bask in my glory!
She in her balcony
The opera on their dram of the second half
If only she knew
She to be
Behind the curtains with me
The final act of the soiree
The expression she gave oh screaming pleas
As I slit her throat in a lustful three
The blood of our love
Gushing and gushing for only me
Her love and bloods devotion
Only chalk lines point now to me
The detective goes "Ernesto"
Another like all the ones before
I smile and fain sadness
Yes detective, any tell tale signs?
None that I can see Ernesto
He seems to be a silent one
A ghost who comes and goes
With no humanity or heart to show
Are the chalk lines all drawn detective?
Yes Ernesto, you may take possession of the body now
I whisper "I have taken possession long before you arrived senior"
I and the detective play the same dance
He is mystified at these crimes
As the blood of love dances, drop by drop, into my mouth
She is with me now
Alone and with our coronary desires
She is cold, and silent, and icy
Welcoming my final intrusions
The dance of the dead
Her blood drained
I drink the wine of my lustful crime
I so enjoy the mystery
As they all stare
At my beautiful chalk lines
She was all of nineteen
She was always mine
I Ernesto
Drank the rubies blood wine
I see tell tale signs of our love in decline
Is it something I said? Did I miss a sign?
One cold word is going to lead to another
You’re playing with fire girl, but that’s alright
I don't care what other people see
It’s only you and me
I know you want some sympathy
And it’s always seems to come from me
I was not there for you, I guess I’m to blame
It’s different now, you’re not the same
We really need to work things out
I've found my way back to your heart
I am ready to make a new start
I have waited for so long
To give our love another try
Please don't tell me that I was wrong
Once in your life you find your soul mate
I knew from our very first date
You kept me coming back for more
How could I watch you walk away?
Yesterday’s gone but we have today
I was waiting all night for you to call
I stared at my phone till my eyes lost focus
Then you called, we had a lot to discuss
Now it’s time for a fresh start
It’s only you and me, just the two of us
The warm tingle down my spine, tell tale signs of a slight tan.
Freckles burst forth as flowers do, is it a dream or is this how I am?
Rolling down the grassy knoll, paddling in the stream.
Daisy chains loop round and round, or is this all a dream?
Running jumping like the deer, nuzzling softly on your chest.
Will I wake and find in fear, Tis not you, but just a dream at best?
To separate dreams from reality, this is hard to do.
Because my reality is a dream, when I am with you.
© 27 /05 /2013
Contest entry:
What happened to the man I loved? Why did he lose himself?
The strong hold his demons had over him was tearing us apart
Dilated pupils, slurred words, stupid grin worn when drinking,
a fool who staggers on his way until he's behind a closed door
I'll let it be for now, but putting up with it is becoming a chore
Mom died and I'd flown home to take care of all that mattered
Two hours at the airport before he arrived. At least he was alive
I asked for the keys; he gave me that sly grin with a blank stare
I let it be. Can't reason with a drunk who's leaning on the car door
He reaked of peppermint schnapps. Beneath my breath I swore
I drove home from work and found the usual 'hidden' tell-tale signs
top shelf of the pantry, another box in the shower, half eaten pizzas
He was clueless that the scent of pepperoni gave his addiction away
Not up for a confrontation so I didn't knock upon his fortress door
I had to let it be because I heard him snoring, passed out on the floor
What excuses he invented when it was time for him to go to work
"My allergies are acting up," with Kleenex up both sides of his nose
Or this, "My hair is not cooperating today so just go on without me"
When I got home I was alone. He, behind the damned locked door
I'd let him be, but I longed for the life that once held so much more
I found empty vodka bottles he thought hidden in places I'd not find
blueberry, peach, or tasty flavor of the week, under dresser drawers
He refused my begging pleas to get the help he needed, so I let it be
It's true; living with someone who keeps himself shut behind a door
is lonelier that living alone. I loved him, but I was better off before.
Before he started drinking we were happy; quite a contented couple
But that changed when he abused me with angry words and actions
There was no satisfaction in walking away from the man I still loved
I couldn't say "let it be." I wouldn't watch another inebriated encore
I said goodbye, trying not to cry. Tears fell when I closed the door
The day whose hours only a dream ago ended,
Was a test to the grave some men commended,
For seizing any opportunity to push and trip,
Is what men do when they want you off their ship.
The grave is a temptation for sure, but to endure
By moving on, by vowing instead to live more pure,
Far outshines the humiliating lights of evasiveness,
Whose eyes fearing the look of so-called craziness,
Would rather play it safe to make the world flatter.
Flat-landers, fearing bumps too risky to matter,
Huddling in groups with crossed fingers on backs,
Searching the ground for tell-tale signs of cracks,
Prefer cleaning their roads to clearing their minds,
Daily management easier without certain kinds.
The day whose hours a deep hurt now lets go,
Was an exam whose answer I begin to know.
The writing on the wall though merely commenced,
Is the writing of a fall that will not be dispensed,
For this refusal is more then a denial,
But an affirmation of the life I love and smile.
The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake – Part Thirteen
Oh! Woe! Woe! On pubic islet the dirty deed’s done
Bloodied needle leaves stain the Zen-rock cobbled garden
The derelict torn womb spills seminal fluids on the ground
Fallopian tubes shredded by the elements count down
Her mons veneris rough-scaled and crushed by bombarding rams
The cicatrised wooden ramparts no more serving as soil dams
Not a lamina of palmate leaf even so much as shaking hands
Where the maple tree once swayed to vulva-lapping tom-toms
This soggy desolation of mud and gangrened charred rock
Three weeping willows drooping wan lifeless at the water mock
Where even the wild fowl desert the juicy period spoils
Tell-tale signs of the Lady Lake’s pilloried grief in stock
Where the surgeon’s thrusting irons reigned now stands the shiny
bridge
Three dark as dungeons evergreens bear lurid witness knowledge
Of an unwholesome demonic deed done to the locked-in Dame
Look! That Ancient Bard of Nishapur will surely acknowledge!
Hark! The tulip-lipped Lass from Lahore walks downcast on stones!
The Maiden of the Main lifts her head to utter bye-bygones!
Pale Ol’ Khayyam still roams dreaming of the Dame of the Lake!
Yet the foul deed still resounds up to the highest heavens!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXXV
IF you pull a long croquet face
While picking your teeth index and thumb over molar
Canines will drip corrosive acids on knuckles and nails
E'en if you lose anonymous self in a crowded alley
If you pull a long twisted itching face
All through childhood while making hay
You risk being stung by bluebottles and fleas
Right where you may not much like 'em to stay
If you pull a long self-conscious face
Guilt straining your under-your-wear during play
Tell-tale signs beyond control those stains on lace
Parents by Law only keep teens so long as they obey
If you pull a long pre-maturé face
E'en a Mahatma Gandhi married at puberté
At 36 assumes Brahmacharya celibate sacrifice
To libido's extra-marital experience falls prey
If you must pull a long pedo-de-filed priestly face
Pull it not on homeless orphan or pious nun gone astray
Tussle all alone the Devil in you from pantry to pillow-case
Or else the Man in Hu-Man would drive the Wo-Man gay
© T. Wignesan - Paris, February 21, 2019